Wow, Rose, leave it to you to explore the November of my soul kind of questions that I had tidily tucked away deep in the recesses of my mind along with that melanin which is slowly retreating from my substantia nigra. My first inclination is to think Fantasy Island but then I gaze down at my beautiful sleeping 15 month old son and realize "wow, I suck" - I never wanted him to have to make any decisions like this. Short of adopting a Native American approach of wandering off into the woods when I have become too much of a burden, or getting swept up in the romanticism of not going gentle into that good night, I have thought very little of this. Clearly, I have thought very little for it is highly unlikely that I will actually be able to wander anywhere or rage against anything when trapped inside my body. I wonder if Poe was really writing on the end stage of PD hen he penned The Premature Burial....

I digress, but have no where else to go with this one. Funny, though, isn't that what our PD organizations do for us too? Offer digressions, illusions, as if this whole thing can't be overcome with a little pluck on our part and a lot of caregivig on the part of others. Never in their success storied do they feature end stage PWP- everone seems to get on just fine with a forced medical retirement on SSDI, I mean really who doesn't have at least $4000 a month to have round the clock care?

Quite honestly, I rather hope that my kidneys or liver fink out having had their fill of the gold standard before this, or that dystonia will force me into a permanently twisted seeking enlightenment kind of position under a tree. I really can't begin to deal with the reality on this one.

Laura